When England Meets His Fandoms
by OtakuPotterheadGleek
Summary: A group of one- shots when England meets his famous fandoms! Co-written with a friend of mine. Includes other franchises.


**Hello! So this is going to be a series of One-Shots, that is either written by my friend, or myself. This one is written by her. Please no hate comments. She worked really hard on this.**

England plopped down on the chair, letting out a huge sigh. He had just gotten back from a meeting with all the nations and was completely drained; the usual result of those meetings. For all that work, only rarely – if ever – did they actually accomplish something.

All he really wanted to do was get some sleep, but there had been this mysterious book left on his doorstep that morning, and in the rush, he hadn't paid it more than cursory attention. He'd had the presence of mind to pick it up and drop it on the coffee table, as it was likely to rain; they were in London after all.

Now he picked it up and started leafing through it. It appeared to be a collection of Shakespeare's tragedies; Hamlet, Macbeth, Othello, Romeo and Juliet, the whole list. England was familiar with them all; he was _England, _for God's sake.

He flipped pages until he hit the end of the book, then flipped backward again, frowning as he saw there were no other plays but the tragedies. He closed the book, but the cover was only black leather with a singly rose etched into the front, painted with shiny silver. The was no title page.

Fatigue left England as he perked up at the mystery. Maybe it was America playing on of his damn practical jokes again, but somehow he doubted it. This was too subtle for him. So who'd left it?

England jumped when someone pounded on his door. His head snapped up at the sound and the book was set down, momentarily forgotten. England rose, unlocked, and opened the door. It took him several seconds to process who was standing at his door, and he missed most of what the person was trying to tell him.

"So did you find a book or not?" The man asked, irritated that England hadn't answered his question the first time. He was tall, pale, with curly black hair. He wore a great-coat, the collar pulled up against the wind, accentuating his prominent cheekbones; a blue scarf tucked under his chin.

Next to him was a shorter man with sandy blond hair, closely cropped. He was dressed neatly with his hands in his pockets, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.

England turned back to the dark-haired man in awe. "You're Sherlock Holmes!"

Holmes frowned agitatedly. "Yes, but that's not a very brilliant deduction, seeing how I already introduced myself. Now, did you find a book on your doorstep this morning or not?"

"Uh-I-um…" England sputtered, unable to form a coherent sentence. Sherlock Holmes, _the_ Sherlock Holmes, was standing on his doorstep, asking him about a book- a book! _Right! Focus!_ England thought to himself, and paused a moment to draw a breath for a – hopefully – coherent sentence.

Before he could say anything, however, Holmes pushed by him, and stalked into the room. He looked left and right, and glanced up the stairs before muttering something about being "busy in the morning" and "rain in London" and starting for the sitting room.

"Sorry 'bout that, mate." The blond-haired man said as they followed the detective deeper into the house. "He's just so impatient, hope you don't mind." England could only nod as he continued. "My name's John, by the way. Dr. John Watson."

"Pleasure to meet you." England managed to choke out.

"Ah-hah!" Holmes cried out, seeing the book England had left forgotten on the coffee table. "This is it, John!" He picked it up and started leafing through it quickly, nodding and muttering to himself as he did.

"I-ah-what-what is it?" England finally got out.

Holmes glanced at him, brow furrowed. "It is the book missing from Madison Callaway's library." He stated matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything.

"Wait-who is Madison Callaway and why is her book on my doorstep?" England asked, the 'answer' only serving to bring up more questions.

Holmes doesn't even bother to look up as he continued to flip furiously through the book. "The book is not Madison Callaway's." He corrected.

Before England could get another word out, Watson interrupted. "Madison Callaway is the daughter of an American sailor currently stationed at the American consulate. She disappeared two weeks ago. Sherlock was asked to investigate and found this book missing. It was given to Madison by her boyfriend for her sixteenth birthday shorty before she disappeared, except Sherlock maintains that this is not the copy of the book that Madison received; that someone broke in, stole that book, and planted this one. Or something…" Watson trailed off, looking at Holmes.

England was sure Watson meant well, but he was just as confused as before, if not more so.

"They didn't _plant_ it, John. We did not find it at Madison's bedroom, obviously. They are using this to throw us off the trail." Holmes corrected his colleague with conviction.

"But how did you know it would be at my house?" England asked quickly. _Not that I'm complaining, really…_

"And why are we even looking for it if it's misleading?" Watson asked, sounding exasperated.

The detective didn't answer, but continued flipping through the book. The room fell silent as both men watched him work. Occasionally, he would stop his frantic skimming and appeared to read a page in earnest before he started flipping through again. He was barely half-way through the book, and England wondered how much longer they would have to wait for Holmes to find what he was looking for.

"Would you like a cup of tea, Dr. Watson?" He finally asked, sick of standing around. Despite how awe-inspiring the detective may have been, ten minutes of watching him read a book was less then exciting.

"I'd love a cuppa, thank you." The doctor replied, and England left to do so. When he returned five minutes later, Holmes was still flipping through the book.

"What are you looking for?" He snapped, finally sick of this man standing in his sitting room, having barged into his house, and not explaining any of it.

"Finally." Holmes hissed, bending over to set the book on the coffee table before pulling a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. England got the feeling he was being ignored.

"What is that, Sherlock?" Watson asked, leaning forward to try and see the paper more clearly. "And more importantly, where did you get it?"

"It is a page out of Madison's copy of the book that she ripped out after realizing what it was. It was hidden under some of her other books." Holmes responded without looking up.

"Wait. You found that at a crime scene and didn't bother to _tell _anyone? And then you removed it?" Watson gapped. England didn't know much about crime scene procedure, but that didn't sound good.

Holmes sighed, his shoulders slumping, and stood to look at Watson. "You make it sound so horrible, John."

"It's bloody illegal, that's what it is!" Watson snapped, then took a deep breath and a sip of his tea. "What did you find?"

"On Madison's page, there is a cipher written in invisible ink that comes out when exposed to heat and lemon juice. Lieutenant Callaway said Madison spilled lemonade on her book and used a hair-dryer to dry it out so it didn't mold. Lemon juice, heat.

"She discovered the cipher by accident this way, and, thinking it a surprise from her boyfriend, proceeded to solve it. When she realized what it really was, she ripped the page out and hid it shortly before being kidnapped and the book stolen."

England opened his mouth to ask a question, but Holmes plowed on without stopping.

"Her school schedule indicated she took advanced maths and she had several puzzles spread out over her desk. She was clever and very capable with numbers, and the cipher was not that complicated; she would have had no problem solving it. She figured it all out shortly before her disappearance because she hadn't had time to go to her father about it."

England stood stock-still, in awe of what had just happened. _How could he _possibly _have known all that?_

"Alright, Sherlock, what did the cipher say since you clearly already solved it and where is Madison. I can't imagine whoever took her is treating her very nicely." Watson asked, only a slight touch of irony in his voice.

"You are quite right, John, which is why we must hurry. Tell me, England, where do you keep your maps?" Holmes looked right at the nation, his gaze intense and conveying a compelling sense of urgency.

"Um, follow me, please." England said, and in a dream he walked up the stairs to his study, pulling out a few long rolls of paper. "Of what do you need the map?"

"Wales." Holmes said without pause.

"Why Wales?" Watson asked as England spread the map out on his immaculate desk.

"The phrasing and slang used in both ciphers would indicate the kidnappers are native of that province. The book was also printed there, a fact I had yet to determine until I saw this book." Holmes answered as he poured over the map. Multi-tasking seemed to be his specialty.

"But couldn't you just have looked it up online?" England asked. "And why'd you flip through the whole thing if what you needed was in the front of the book? And how'd you know it would be at my house?"

Holmes looked up at England, another frown on his face, the irritation back. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Not to anyone but you, Holmes. So answer his questions." Watson pitched in.

Holmes sighed, but complied. "The book is custom made; to look it up online would have been impractical since I had access to an identical copy. The kidnappers sent me another cipher this morning, leading me to your house and this book in the hopes of throwing me off their sent, but they only ended up ensuring their demise. As for why I flipped through the book, I wanted to find Madison's page in this copy to ensure all my deductions would be accurate."

"Brilliant as usual, Sherlock." Watson snorted, shaking his head.

The corner of the great detective's mouth tugged up in a crooked smile. "It's really quite elementary, my dear Watson."

**So thanks for taking the time to read this! Please come back for more!**


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